Bound
by celestial1
Summary: Two conversations between Ziva and Tony.
1. Chapter 1

Bound

**author's note. **I was inspired by reading lilmouse's excellent story, 'Life's Pursuits' (seriously, go read it) and got to thinking about the conversation Ziva and Tony would have. This is a bit different style of story for me; I'm not used to writing a lot of dialogue, so I hope it turns out okay.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So this makes twice." Ziva shifts uncomfortably.

"What?" Tony is having a hard time following. Given the blood loss, this is understandable.

"That we've been stuck with each other, alone, and left to die." Ziva recalls the incident with the shipping container, the counterfeit money, and cases and cases of Bollywood movies.

Tony starts humming the music from Kuch Kuch Hoda Hai. "We're not going to die," he says lightly. "Someone will find us."

"Really? How do you know?" Ziva is growing irritable.

Tony smiles, even though she can't see him. "Doesn't someone always find us?"

They are bound, but fortunately not gagged, so they can at least keep each other company until they are rescued. Or until their captors come back to finish them off. Tony struggles a little against the ropes that hold him, but he knows it's futile, as they have broken both of his arms.

Ziva's palms are fastened together with yards of duct tape, their captors having learned first hand of the Mossad agent's skill with handcuffs. She has not been beaten as badly as Tony. They did, however, do other things to her while Tony was forced to listen.

Given the choice, Ziva would have preferred the beating.

"Hmm, I guess you're right," she says after some consideration.

"You know, this reminds me of a movie…" Tony begins.

Ziva wonders if it was part of the torture when the creeps decided not to put tape over Tony's mouth. "What movie is that?" she snaps back at him.

Tony falls silent, considering the question. "Actually, I… I can't think of any movie that this reminds me of."

This is a bad sign. The moment Tony stops being annoying is the moment Ziva begins to worry about him. He is going into shock, and she has no idea how far off their help is, or if any is truly coming.

Much as she hates it, she has to keep him talking.

"I'm turning to ice," Ziva says, the only thing she can think of. Somehow Ziva's conversational skills have abandoned her. "Aren't you cold?"

"Freezing." Ziva can picture the expression on his face as he speaks, the ironic lift of his eyebrows. "Think of someplace warm, Ziva. I promise it'll help."

"Someplace warm," Ziva repeats, dreamily. "Hmm."

"What did you come up with?" Tony asks her. "What's your warm place?"

"Cairo," Ziva informs him, "and I do feel better, thank you. What's yours?"

"Gitmo," Tony replies. "Cuba. Sand and sun… iguanas… Paula Cassidy…"

"Agent Cassidy?" Ziva has never met the other woman, but she has heard quite a bit through water cooler gossip. "Is she your girlfriend?"

Tony smiles again in the dark, thinking of Paula. "Nope." He straightens his back, pressing it into Ziva's. "We need to conserve body heat. So, you lean on me, and I'll lean on you, okay?"

"Are you saying you've got my back?" Ziva laughs. "That can't be good."

"Hey," Tony says, mock-injured. Of course, he is injured for real, as well. "I'm not going anywhere."

"This is familiar, too," Ziva recalls. "When we were tied up together in the hotel room."

"Yeah," Tony agrees, "only I had a nice warm sweater to wear then." He shivers, the cold biting into his flesh through a thin T-shirt. "As I recall, that was a pretty _hot_ weekend from start to finish, wasn't it? _Ouch_," he adds, as Ziva, ropes or no ropes, manages to drive an elbow into his back.

"It was a nice hotel," Ziva adds regretfully. "I wouldn't mind some room service right now."

"And some nice fluffy towels…" He is really shaking now, elevating Ziva's concern.

"What was your childhood like? Any brothers or sisters, any pets?" Ziva asks him, to distract him from the cold.

"Other than the ill-fated sea monkeys, no. You?" He has to keep her talking, keep her on edge, keep her from thinking about what has been done. Strong as she is, he is fearful that she will break, that the Ziva-ness inside her will simply fade away… or worse, that she will harden, become a second Gibbs. A more attractive Gibbs, but still, it would be a crying shame.

"I had a brother." Ziva hadn't planned on telling him; she'd planned to carry the secret to her grave. Right now, the grave looks awfully close. Plus, she thinks, he probably won't recall this conversation, head wound and all.

"You _had _a brother?" Tony picks up on it. She's not surprised.

"Half-brother, technically," Ziva corrects. "Same father."

"What was his name?" Ziva is silent, so Tony tries a different approach. "What happened to him?"

"He died," Ziva says simply.

"I'm sorry." Tony's voice is quiet with sympathy. "I can only imagine…"

"Kate," Ziva says suddenly. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him; now she feels like changing the subject, instead. "What was she like?"

"Kate," Tony repeats, closing his eyes. He does not seem at all surprised that Ziva is bringing her up. "She was… she was incredibly driven. She wanted to be the best, the best of the best…"

"Gibbs does tend to have that effect on people," Ziva remarks dryly.

"Yeah, but Kate was…" He's searching for the right word. "I don't know, it's like she thought she had to prove she was worthy to be on Gibbs' team."

"We all do," Ziva says, laughing a little as she recalls her first days with Gibbs. "In case you have not noticed, he has very exacting standards."

"I know," Tony says. "I guess I can't really explain. She just… Kate just really liked to be right. I guess I can't fault her," he continues. "I mean, she did stay with me."

"Kate stayed in your home?" Ziva asks, surprised.

"No," Tony says, "in the hospital. You know, when I had the plague."

"You had the plague?" Ziva is trying not to laugh, because he sounds so serious about it.

"You didn't know? I thought you did, you know, a _dossier_ on me." Tony exaggerates the French pronunciation of the word. "Kinda surprised that one slipped past your awesome spy skills."

"Director Shepard said you had been ill," Ziva responds primly. "She didn't specify it was bubonic plague."

"Pneumonic," Tony corrects. "It was just a few weeks before Kate… you know. She stayed with me in the hospital, so I wouldn't be alone. Of course, she had to lie and tell me that she was infected too. But maybe that was her way

"Of all the people I know" - _and that's a lot_, Tony adds, she seems to have an infinite supply of contacts, of sources, of informants - "you're the only one who could ever get the plague." She's laughing at him. He gets that a lot, actually.

"Yeah, that's what Kate said," Tony recalls.

"Did you know plague victims were used as the first biological warfare?" Ziva muses. "During the Crusades, they used to hurl the victims' bodies over the siege walls…"

"Thank you, _Ducky_," Tony replies sarcastically.

"Did you ever sleep with Kate?" Ziva inquires. The rules of polite conversation seem to have been discarded due to extenuating circumstances.

"No."

"Did you ever want to?" Ziva can't imagine a woman alive that Tony hasn't wanted to be with, on some level. And she's seen pictures of Kate.

"It wasn't like that with Kate," Tony attempts to explain.

"But she stayed with you in the hospital."

"Yeah, she did." His tone is enigmatic.

"Do you miss her?" Ziva's tone is almost tender. She, too, has lost friends.

"Of course I do," Tony says quietly. "I almost envy Gibbs."

"Why's that?"

"I wouldn't have minded being the one to put a bullet in Ari's forehead."

Ziva draws a shaky breath. "Gibbs didn't kill them."

"What? How is that even possible?" Tony is surprised. "Wait, how do you know?" Ziva doesn't respond because she knows, head injury or not, that he will put two and two together quickly enough.

And he does. "You killed Ari, didn't you."

"I had to." She never knew for sure until now, but Ziva's always suspected that Gibbs never told his team the full story. "He was going to kill Gibbs. He had a gun aimed at his head and… you know what a good shot Ari is. He doesn't hesitate. He killed Ari, he would have killed Gibbs. He would have killed all of you. I had to," she repeats, her words tumbling out in a rush. Her voice shakes as if she is ready to cry. Tony can't picture Ziva crying. It would be like Gibbs drinking decaf.

"You were his control officer. Were you and Ari close?" It's not like her to be unnerved by a killing.

"He was my brother, Tony."

"Ari was your half-brother?" Tony breathes. "Oh, Ziva, I'm so sorry…"

"What's your middle name?" Ziva changes the subject abruptly. Their situation is bad enough, without dwelling on Ari. "I could only find out it begins with a D."

Tony grins evilly. "I'll never tell."

"Well, you owe me _something_," Ziva presses.

"When this is all over, I'll buy you a pizza. Sausage, pepperoni, extra cheese." Tony's mouth waters.

"Ah, Tony? I don't eat pork."

"Right. Sorry." Mentally, Tony Gibbs-slaps himself. "How about mushroom and green pepper, then?"

"That would be fine, thank you." She smiles. "Would you like to call the delivery boy now?"

Tony chuckles at this. "If they don't deliver in thirty minutes or less, it's free."

"Have you ever gotten your pizza free?" With as many pizzas as the male agent has consumed in his lifetime, Ziva thinks, it's bound to have happened sometime.

Tony's teeth are chattering; it's hard to understand him. "When I was in college…"

He doesn't finish his thought. Someone is coming. With a flashlight trained in his face, Tony can't tell if it is their team to the rescue, or the bad guys coming to finish them off. "Hey!" he barks, anger winning out over common sense. "Not in the eyes, jerk."

"Sorry." It's McGee. He lowers the flashlight and crouches beside them.

"Probie!" Tony could weep with relief.

"Don't call me probie," McGee retorts automatically. He pulls rule 9 from his belt and begins cutting through their ropes. "Ambulance is on its way." McGee removes his jacket and starts to drape it over Tony's shaking shoulders. Tony shakes his head, nods towards Ziva.

"Ambulance," Tony repeats, and suddenly he is feeling very weak. He knows what it means: a trip to the hospital, and an IV full of morphine, and he isn't going to remember any of this. _Ziva shot Ari_, he tells himself, in case the reminder will help, _and he was her brother_.

He flashes McGee a bloody-toothed grin, a sadistic mockery of his usual brilliant smile. "'Bout time," Tony mumbles, and promptly passes out.


	2. Chapter 2

**author's note**. I didn't set out to write a Poor Tony. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a DiNozzo-whumping as much as the next gal, but that's not what I usually write. However, it looks like this story is leaning that way because here is the traditional closing scene in the hospital. Oh well.

I originally conceived the story as a one-shot; I thought Tony deserved this.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three nights later, when he is finally awake, Ziva pays him a visit. He is staring out the darkened window, trying to piece it together, when she appears in his doorway. "_Shalom_," she says, smiling faintly. "Can I come in?"

Tony is in no position to argue, so he wordlessly watches her cross the linoleum floor to a bedside chair. She sits, dressed in a robe over sweats. The sleeve of her robe falls away when she drags the chair closer to the bed, and Tony sees a hospital bracelet on her bruised wrist.

He finally speaks, through cracked lips. "Should you be up, Officer David?"

"I'm fine," Ziva says, and it is mostly true. With dark hair cascading around her pale face, she looks like a pre-Raphaelite painting. "Just a little bonged up."

"The term is _banged up_," Tony informs her - good, she thinks, that reflex hasn't been injured.

"I'm going home in the morning." Ziva crosses her feet at the end of Tony's bed. "I couldn't sleep."

"Nice slippers," Tony says dryly. "Goth bunnies. Cute."

"Abby lent them to me," Ziva explains, as if this isn't obvious. There isn't much room - seventy-four inches of DiNozzo pretty well fill the bed - so she rests her feet on top of his. It's a strangely affectionate gesture, and he feels her warmth seeping through the thin blanket.

He is still cold.

"So -" They both begin at the same time. Tony chuckles, tilts his head towards her. "You first."

"Do you remember anything?" Ziva inquires, folding her hands, interlacing her assassin's fingers.

"I remember going in to make the bust," Tony recalls, "and then I woke up here. The rest is pretty fuzzy. Were we tied up or something? They won't tell me."

"Oh, yes." Ziva displays her wrists. "Duct tapes, ropes, the whole nine feet."

"Nine yards," Tony corrects.

"Does it make a difference?" She's glad that they're playing the game again. She hadn't liked seeing him so quiet, before.

"Oh, it does." Tony grows serious, recalling the past victims they have seen. "Those guys were hard core. They didn't… _hurt_ you, did they?"

"You tried to stop them." Ziva's eyes flick guiltily over his bandages. "That's when they did _this_ to you."

"I did?" Tony smiles a little, pleased with himself. "I didn't think I was that kind of guy."

Ziva returns his smile. "I didn't either. So, you really don't remember anything?"

"No." Tony's grin spreads slowly across his face. "Did we make out?"

"We talked," Ziva enunciates.

Tony groans. "Talking is never a good thing."

"That would be why you don't get many second dates, Tony."

"Did I tell you anything embarrassing?" He's a little frightened by the fact that he doesn't remember a thing.

"Are you kidding?" Ziva snorts. "You wouldn't even give up your middle name."

"Gibbs trained me well." Tony grins, recalling his boss's closemouthed tendencies.

"We talked about Kate. And Ari."

His face clouds a little. "Why would we talk about Ari?"

"I'm telling you, because you deserve to know." She leans in, takes a deep breath, and speaks abruptly. "I was the one who killed Ari. I shot him."

"You did?" Tony shows no sign of recollection.

"Yes, and he was my half-brother." Her face betrays only a hint of sadness, but it is enough.

"Oh," Tony says. He favors her with a drugged smile. "Did I tell you I had the plague?"

They are bound now, tied together by their shared experience. Ziva squeezes Tony's fingers where they protrude from the cast. "You're a good friend, Tony," she says.

**the end.**


End file.
